


Metamorphosis

by Megane



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Betrayal, Corruption, Murder, Possession, Psychological Torture, Strangulation, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 19:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7520440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megane/pseuds/Megane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While venturing to a new town, Libra endures something of a spiritual crisis. The world feels bleak; the sky isn't as blue anymore. Actually… the sky isn't blue at all. The clouds darken overhead. The Heavens open up and give Libra's spirit a new purpose to fulfill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Metamorphosis

**Author's Note:**

> For @SORDHAND and @fatespunhere. Started this in May but got a sudden drive to finish it recently.

It was a standard day for the party. The sky was littered with dense clouds of all sizes. Large shadows swept over the world, leaving a cool presence whenever the Sun was covered.

Everyone was outside; collectively, they made together a large party of fifteen. Each member of the revolutionary group spread out, finding their own activities to do on this beautiful day. Activities included camping and scouting and fighting, but for Libra and a select few others, there was also prayer involved. The small prayer group had found a space near a rock platform. His guiding words carried on the light breeze, and the soft, revering repetition flowed back to him on the same winds. For Libra, Prayer was always a contest of his soul. Under the right circumstances, he often felt humbled, empty but serene. In that serenity, he could feel the lightness of his soul; it was something of an otherworldly reward that removed the burden of his psyche for a short while. Prayer proved to be his blessed respite.

But there were other times that outshone those harmonised moments of salvation. Most times, unfortunately, he felt empty. _Just_ empty. He could feel his soul being dragged down, and there was a metaphorical stone that sat in the pit of his stomach. He never knew what prayer would do to him, but Libra believed in the process. Or at least he tried to. He wanted that lightness, that reprieve, that existential goodness that came with prayer.

Today, Libra led prayer with a heavy tongue. He pushed through the internal turmoil and tried to deliver peace of mind to his comrades. Their soft voices helped ease the unsettled feeling he had inside. Ricken punctuated his grace with a nervous laugh, and Lissa picked up after him with a chipper tone that left Libra feeling a pang in his stomach – just under the stone. As Lissa spoke and asked for guidance, Libra stared up at the heavens. His eyes traced over the clouds in the sky. The Sun warmed his face as it slowly reemerged from behind a heavy cloud. Its bright light shone; Libra squinted his eyes and ducked his head to avoid being blinded. He readjusted his hands, cupping them over his crossed legs, and stared blankly at his palms.

Lissa's voice was a soothing, wordless noise as Libra was lost to the swirl of his thoughts. He was suddenly so aware of the state of his hands. His hands were calloused; his palm lines were dark and stood out against his light skin. Another cool shadow swept over the land. Libra lifted his head.

The sky darkened.

The hollows of his soul echoed with something menacing. It was a small tremor, but it was enough to make him move.

        “We have to reconvene with the others right now,” he said, helping pull Lissa to her feet.

Ricken and Sully looked around for any danger before nodding at Libra's order. They didn't ask what was wrong, but the urgency in his voice demanded their unspoken trust. Ricken cracked open his tome, just in case. Sully helped Lissa onto her steed. Libra grabbed his war axe. Once they were all ready, they headed off. Naturally, Sully and Lissa pulled ahead. Ricken launched warning sparks into the air to signal to the others that they were making a quick retreat.

The dread strengthened as the clouds overhead darkened. The dark grey clouds were edged with a toxic purple. Libra stared up at the sky, watching its metamorphosis, and was stricken with immobility. He froze in place, mouth slack. He tried to speak, to warn Ricken. _No! Don't turn around! No!_

_Don't look concerned! Get away, foolish boy!_

_Get away…!_

Ricken's voice was a soft roll of thunder, wordless and distant. Libra could only see him through his peripheral vision. The mage approached and glanced back over his shoulder towards where Sully had gone. His hand swung towards the distance. The tips of his fingers came within Libra's line of sight. _'Get out of here!'_ the sweeping hand said, but Ricken stayed. He didn't take his own advice. He stood with Libra who stood paralyzed, encased within his own flesh.

The clouds rolled towards the ground as if there was a giant rolling on top of them. Libra watched, transfixed and unable to take his gaze away. He trembled under his own flesh. His muscles and bones ached for movement—for freedom! Libra would have screamed if he could, just to hear his own voice and know that he was still alive.

This was like an undying death. Fear gripped Libra's heart, but soon, even that disappeared.

His vision became dark around the edges, and silence swept over him as if he were unconscious. He wasn't – thankfully and unfortunately – so he was painfully of what was happening next. The clouds pushed down over his head, pressing further and further until they broke open and a hand reached out towards Libra. The monk jerked backwards and was briefly relieved. He didn't have time to think about he could move or not.

The hand with its long nails and dark grey skin continued to reach out for Libra. As it lowered down, it turned into a dark cloud of smoke and fell in a veil over the monk. Libra breathed in the smoke, and his whole body jolted with pain. Every nerve felt as if it was on fire. It hurt to breathe! It hurt to move. This was worse than the immobility. At least then there was nothing to torture his senses.

 _ **Do you wish to stop the pain?**_ an unseen voice asked. Its tone was deep; amusement threaded through each word and brought relief to the monk. If Libra agreed, he wasn't aware, but the voice soon continued, _**Kill. Survive. Prove this life of yours is worth keeping, and the pain will go away.**_

It was just that easy, but Libra tried to resist against such a dark, compelling offer. As he did, the pain increased until he doubled over. The sound was muted, but he could hear his own screams. A hand fell against him, and Libra batted it away. His screaming increased until the noise was crystal clear in his own mind.

Suddenly, he only had one goal. He needed to end this. His hand reached out for his war axe. His nails dug through the ground, leaving small trenches behind. He rose to his feet, seeing people coming towards them. Stahl carried Chrom on horseback. Tharja followed along, gliding more than running, and Lon'qu ran beside Stahl's stallion.

 _Lon'qu_ —

It was a name that stoked the torturous flames. So, Libra swung his axe over his head and crashed it down onto the ground. The earth cracked and fissured. A miasma floated up into the air. Ricken, rendered unconscious when Libra tossed him, laid prone on the ground. His arm hung over the edge of splintered earth. His head tilted down towards it. Libra watched as Tharja stopped and cracked open her tome. She floated above the ground; a purple aura grew in her hand, which she then crushed. Ricken appeared beside her as a purple silhouette and then as a complete person. Stahl halted his steed when Ricken successfully Returned to them. Chrom reached out to touch the young man, trying to check his health. But that's when Libra stopped paying attention. Lon'qu was still charging for him. The Myrimidon expertly hopped from one cracked piece of land to another. He didn't take his weapon out.

Libra thought that was a mistake.

Libra jumped backwards. His new state of being gave him the ability to leap higher and further, but instinctively, he controlled himself and only bounded back about six feet. Lon'qu watched the monk, and his expression tightened in confusion. The look soon vanished, and he lowered down to the ground. With a huff of effort, Lon'qu jumped forward. He closed the gap between him and Libra by about three feet. Libra stared at him and gripped his war axe tightly.

        “No escape,” he whispered. His voice was dual toned.

        Lon'qu took a half-step forward and lowered himself down into a fighting stance. “Whatever's come over you, it'll stop right here.”

Libra nodded his head and concentrated his newfound power into the handle of his war axe. The pain began to subside, and that only fueled Libra more. He raised his axe — Lon'qu flinched — and stabbed the weapon down into the ground. Hands pulled up from the ground and covered the both of them. Once the fingers intertwined over their head, the hands transformed into a shimmering dome of power. Lon'qu flicked his eyes left and right, not moving his head as he watched the change. There was nothing he could do about that.

He would just have to fight Libra to get out of this prison. Libra stared at him. The blond's lips twitched downward involuntarily. The longer he stood still, the more his nerves screamed in pain. The fire crawled up his spine, and Libra silently suffered the worse headache of his life. He closed his eyes and shook his head. In that instance, he felt Lon'qu move. Libra's eyes opened instantly, and he batted away the Myrimidon like he was a fly. Lon'qu's body turned with the hit. Once he came around again, he rushed Libra, trying to catch him off guard with his speed, but Libra was ready _again._ A fist met Lon'qu's stomach. He staggered; his arms fell at his sides. A hand came over his face. Libra spun around and slammed Lon'qu's head into the dome, which rippled upon impact. Spinning once again, Libra pushed Lon'qu down into the ground. The earth dented from the force.

Libra knelt down on top of Lon'qu's body and pressed his knee down. There would be no great speeches from the monk. He wouldn't monologue and say his reasons for why any of this was happening. Every articulate thought he had was expressed more in feelings than in words. He could _feel_ himself wonder certain things; every observation was met with an appropriate emotion, but whatever he said came free from his soul. No thoughts passed through his mind that could be verbally articulated.

And so now, what he thought and felt was a sense of accomplishment. As Lon'qu grabbed at his partner's wrist, Libra watched as Lon'qu's brows tightened with pain. Soon, he felt Lon'qu's ribs give under his knee. One final push made Lon'qu let out a muffled yelp of pain. This… this felt amazing. His own pain was disappearing…! Libra moved his hand down to Lon'qu's neck; his other hand went there as well. He kept the swordsman pinned under his body as his hands squeezed. Curiosity powered the motions. _Is this really curing me…?_ He wondered wordlessly.

He squeezed tight over Lon'qu's neck, feeling the muscles constrict under his hands. Lon'qu pulled at Libra's arms, but there was no give. Libra was persistent about cutting off Lon'qu's airflow. Every second Lon'qu died meant Libra was being saved. It was true! Lon'qu was _dying_ in his hands, and Libra felt lighter than air. His eyes widened as Lon'qu's darkened.

        “You saved me,” Libra whispered almost reverently. “I can never repay you.” With a grimace of effort, he tightened his muscles and felt Lon'qu's neck snap under his hands.

Lon'qu's hand froze in place before falling away from Libra's arms. Libra waited a second before he pulled away. “But I can end you,” he continued. He lifted up his head and stared at the others who were quickly approaching. Libra reached out to take his axe. “And I can end the others too…”

He stood up slowly and yanked the axe out of the ground. The dome fell away instantly. Libra walked towards the others, and whether intentionally or not, he pressed his foot down on Lon'qu's head and felt it crunch under his boot. Libra didn't look down. He didn't feel any sense of regret.

All he felt was that momentary bliss, but the pain was returning. So was his motivation to be free of this prison. And through his death or theirs, he would be free of this.


End file.
